


Virtual

by ami_ven



Series: Virtual Reality [2]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M, Remix, Sequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-17
Updated: 2014-01-17
Packaged: 2018-01-09 01:16:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1139717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ami_ven/pseuds/ami_ven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rodney knows it isn’t real the whole time, but that doesn’t make it any easier.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Virtual

Rodney didn’t realize he’d been holding his breath until the virtual alien planet appeared around him, complete with a conscious, standing, _smirking_ , John Sheppard.

“Hey,” said John, absently. “You get anything more solid on those scanner readings?”

“Oh, um…” Rodney floundered.

They were standing in the same room Rodney had just been, except that the wall which had held the bank of Ancient VR pods was bare. John had seen those pods, he’d been halfway through what was probably a terrible pun when he’d touched one and it had activated— so why was John, inside the virtual reality, acting like he had no idea the VR device even existed?

“McKay?” John prompted.

“What? Oh, scanner readings. No, it’s… there was some residual energy in the superstructure here, but there’s not enough there now to power a light bulb, let alone anything that could actually help us defeat the Wraith.”

“So, you’re saying that this planet is a bust?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying.” To keep his voice steady, Rodney ended up responding a lot more condescendingly than he intended, but John appeared not to notice.

“Great,” the colonel said. “So we can cross this place off our to-do list and head back in time for dinner.”

“Dinner, sure,” Rodney agreed.

John snorted a laugh. “You don’t sound too enthusiastic, McKay. Should I be worried?”

“Shut up,” Rodney snapped. “Let’s go home.”

They met up with Teyla and Ronon at the ‘gate, and neither of them acted like anything was wrong at all— the VR pod only activated with the ATA gene, so these had to be virtual representations of their teammates. Rodney dialed Atlantis and sent through his ID code.

In the Gate Room, John waved absently to Woolsey, who nodded and disappeared back into his office, then surrendered his P90 and tac vest to the Marine who’d come to collect them.

He was acting… normal. Everyone was acting normal. Everything was exactly like every other (admittedly rare) time they came back from a mission without incident or injury.

Rodney handed over his own gun and followed his team down the corridor toward the infirmary. He _was_ in the virtual reality, he knew that, but it would be easy to forget. He had a brief moment of panic that maybe this was all a set up to get vital information about Atlantis— in which case, it had worked, because he’d already shown whoever it was a whole hell of a lot— but the thick layer of dust that had covered the VR device all but guaranteed that nobody had even been near it in a very long time.

“ _Rodney, lad, can you hear me?_ ”

“Carson?” said Rodney. The voice had definitely come through his radio, but— no, there was Carson on the other side of the infirmary, smiling at something Teyla had said.

“ _Aye, Rodney. Are you all right?_ ”

“Yes, I’m—” Rodney broke off, then ducked behind a partition curtain. “Carson, where are you?”

“ _I’m standing right beside the virtual reality pod holding your unconscious body. Have you lost your mind?_ ”

“Of course not,” Rodney snapped. “But when Sheppard activated the damn thing, I couldn’t just…”

“ _Ah_ ,” said Carson. “ _John is there? He’s all right?_ ”

Rodney peeked around the curtain, to see that virtual-Carson was just finishing taking John’s blood pressure. “Yes, and he seems to be. But he doesn’t know this isn’t real.”

“ _Ah_ ,” said Carson, again. “ _What? Really? No, Rodney, not you. Radek had been examining the machine_.”

“And?” Rodney demanded.

“ _And_ ,” said Radek’s voice, “ _you and Colonel Sheppard are both connected to a very sophisticated virtual reality. Both pods are connected, sharing data, creating a single virtual environment._ ”

“They why do I know it’s a VR and Sheppard doesn’t?”

“ _Because your gene is artificial?_ ” Radek suggested. “ _Colonel Sheppard’s pod is showing much more activity than yours, suggesting that the majority of the virtual environment is being drawn from him, but it is definitely taking data from you both. I do not know yet how or why it is doing that, but—_ ”

“What?” said Rodney. “How long have you been studying this thing? Let me out and I can—”

“ _No, Rodney_ ,” said Carson. “ _The virtual environment is being generated from information taken from both of you. I have no way of knowing what would happen to John if you’re removed from the system._ ”

“ _But we are working on it!_ ,” Radek added quickly. “ _We will need you to keep Colonel Sheppard engaged in the virtual reality, Rodney. We also do not know what might happen if he realized what is going on._ ”

“Engaged?” Rodney repeated. “No, never mind. Will you be able to contact me again?”

“ _We will keep this radio frequency open,_ ” said Radek.

“Now, where’s Rodney gone?” asked Carson— virtual-Carson, not the voice in Rodney’s ear.

“Okay, got it,” Rodney said into his radio, and shut it off.

Virtual-Carson’s examination didn’t find anything wrong with any of them, so Rodney trailed his team to the de-briefing. He paid even less attention than usual, sneaking sidelong glances at John, beside him. Radek and real-Carson could take hours— days!— to find a way to shut down the VR safely. How was he supposed to keep John occupied for that long?

“Yeah, a complete bust,” John was saying, in response to something Woolsey had said. “Not so much as an Ancient haiku or a broken control crystal.”

“So there’s no need to send a cultural or science team?” Woolsey asked.

“Nah,” said John.

“Then we can take that off any of our lists…”

A few missions back, Rodney remembered, they had collected a crate full of broken Ancient tech, most of which he hadn’t really gotten a chance to look at. He could claim to need John’s natural gene, and that should keep him busy for a few hours, at least.

Around him, everyone started getting up from the table. Rodney grabbed his laptop and hurried to catch up with John.

“Hey, Rodney,” said John, with an easy smile.

“I know that you don’t have anything important to do just now,” he said. “At least, nothing more important than activating some Ancient equipment for a few hours.”

“I am the military commander, you know,” John protested, but he was still smiling. “What makes you think I have a few hours? We just got back from a mission.”

“A mission in which nothing happened,” Rodney countered. “You go running with Ronon every morning, you cannot possibly be too tired to sit still and think at Ancient objects. Unless you’ve used up your quota of thinking for today?”

John laughed. “I’m sure I can spare a few more hours of thinking for you, Rodney.”

“Yes, well, good,” said Rodney.

There weren’t too many people in the corridors on the way to his lab, and Rodney found himself hoping that the lab wouldn’t be crowded, either. To his surprise, when he opened the door, it was actually completely empty.

“Huh,” he said.

It was three in the afternoon, Atlantis time, so there should have been somebody… unless the VR was actively adjusting to his thoughts?

“So,” said John. “What do I touch?”

“You can’t just _touch_ things, Sheppard,” Rodney snapped, trying to cover up his sudden need to think quickly— he didn’t actually have anything that needed testing. “You have to set up proper scientific procedures and— Would you just sit down and let me get this set up?”

John gave him a not-quite-believable innocent expression, and sat down in the chair next to Rodney’s desk.

There was a VCR-sized something that he and Rodney had eventually discovered had gotten completely fried. But if Rodney really could control the virtual environment, this would be a great way to find out without John knowing about it. He plunked the device on his workbench and hooked it up to his laptop.

“Okay,” Rodney said. “Try to turn it on.”

John rested both palms flat on the top of the box and closed his eyes— and it lit up, bright blue around the edges, under his hands.

“Hey!” said Rodney, pleasantly surprised. He checked the readings on his laptop. They registered energy output, electrical charge, a change in temperature… Rodney remembered a modified scanner that Radek had been working on, and he raced to grab it. It registered the previously-dead Ancient device, too. He closed his eyes, imagined the energy readings increasing by exactly ten percent, and when he looked again, they had. 

Grinning, Rodney turned back to his desk, to John.

John smiled back, not his usual charm-the-natives smile, but a soft genuine one, happy simply because Rodney was happy.

And in the brief moment that Rodney’s brain was distracted by that, John reached out and pulled him into a kiss. Rodney froze, brain offline again, for a heart-stopping split-second before he realized that _John was kissing him_ and he got with the program.

They pulled apart, just far enough to breathe, and John said, “Your room is closer.”

“What?” said Rodney, then, “Yes, _yes_ , what are we waiting for?”

John laughed and tugged him toward the door.

If Rodney had thought about this beforehand— which he hadn’t, because he didn’t waste precious brain-power on useless fantasies— he would probably have imagined it being awkward, or at least a bit hesitant. But it wasn’t. Because he _knew_ John, and even though they’d never touched with this kind of intent before, he knew what John would like, knew how to interpret every wordless noise and flailing motion.

Rodney didn’t remember falling asleep, but he woke the next morning to John carefully sliding out of his bed. He only had a moment of panic before he registered the early-morning sunlight and John leaning down to kiss him gently.

“Hey,” said John. “I’ve got to meet Ronon for our run. See you at lunch?”

“Sure, lunch,” said Rodney.

John kissed him again, and left

Rodney took a deep breath and scrambled for his radio. “Radek, Carson, where the hell are you?”

“ _We’re here, Rodney_ ,” said Carson’s voice. “ _Are you—?_ ”

“What’s taking so long?” Rodney interrupted. “It’s been over a day!”

“ _Has only been two hours, Rodney_ ,” said Radek.

“I— What?”

“ _The virtual reality is running at a greater speed_ ,” Radek explained. “ _Without the need to keep at so-called ‘real time’, as actual reality does, it can create a world almost as fast as your minds can process_.”

“Which, in my case, is incredibly fast, of course,” said Rodney.

Radek ignored him. “ _We are working as quickly as we can, but this is extremely delicate, Rodney. I am sure you want me to take extra care with something connected to your brain._ ”

“Well, of course I do!” Rodney snapped.

“ _Then it may take some time. The VR environment is being created by your mind joined to Colonel Sheppard’s, and we cannot risk disconnecting only one of you. Disconnecting both together is much trickier._ ”

“ _But we’re not giving up_ ,” Carson added, sympathetically. “ _And how is John?_ ”

Rodney had a sudden, crystal clear and very graphic mental image of what they’d been doing the night before. “Oh. He’s… he’s fine, Carson. Still clueless.”

“ _Good, good. It’ll be better if you can keep him occupied as much as possible, Rodney. Radek isn’t sure he can do this without some— he assures me—_ very minor _disruptions to the program, and it would be best if John doesn’t notice._ ”

“Occupied,” Rodney repeated, a little blankly. “Right. Okay.”

“ _Good_ ,” Carson repeated. “ _Check in every twenty-four hours, your time. We’ll contact you again if we discover anything._ ”

“Right,” said Rodney, and turned his radio back to the standard frequency for the virtual Atlantis.

John seemed to have his own plans for the morning, so Rodney spent time in his lab, practicing how to manipulate the environment around him. It seemed to resist ‘unnatural’ changes— he couldn’t, for example, turn that weird plant Simpson had on her desk into an Earth housecat, but he could refill his coffee cup just by thinking at it.

He was so busy that John came to remind him about lunch, still grinning in that easy way of his. They went to John’s room that night, and took it slow— so perfectly slow that Rodney thought he might be manipulating things, until John collapsed beside him and muttered, “I’ve wanted to do that _forever_.”

Rodney stayed awake long after John had fallen asleep, trying to figure out what to think about that. In the end, he fell asleep, too, without coming up with any answer.

Radek and Carson had no news the next morning, or the morning after that. Two days turned into two weeks without any change— more than a whole day in the ‘real time’ outside the virtual reality— and he was starting to worry.

Especially about the part of him that wanted to stay there forever. Not just because the VR didn’t seem to have any Wraith or Genii, although that was a wonderful bonus, but because he had no idea how John would react when they were back in the real universe again. What if John _did_ know, somehow, that none of this was real, and he was only experimenting? What if, even worse, he was only humoring Rodney, somehow, playacting through the kind of relationship Rodney wanted.

He didn’t want to believe that, of course. John never gave any indication that this wasn’t exactly what he wanted, too, and slowly, Rodney let himself forget. He still checked in with Radek and Carson every morning, but afterwards, he willed himself not to think about the real Atlantis, out there somewhere.

Which was why it was something of a shock to fall asleep in John’s bed, nose pressed against John’s shoulder blade, and wake up to the harsh light of a deactivated Ancient VR pod and Radek’s worried face.

“Rodney!” he said, happily. “Are you—?”

“Where’s John?” Rodney interrupted.

“Still in his pod,” said Carson, and Rodney pushed past him, stumbling on stiff legs, to lean against the side of the second active VR pod.

“He’s all right, though?” Rodney demanded. “You can get him out?”

“Yes, yes, of course,” said Radek, and moved to start deactivating it.

The pod hissed open, and John blinked, probably as disoriented at the sudden change as Rodney had been. Had John woken up, in the virtual reality, he wondered suddenly, after Rodney had disappeared— or had being deeper in the VR affected him differently.

Still blinking, John held out a hand, and Rodney took it without thinking. Not the way he would to help John out of the pod, but the way he’d always done when they were together, just to hold on to him, fingers closing firm around his wrist. Then, he realized what he was doing and stepped back, dropping John’s hand.

John’s expression flickered, too fast for him to identify the emotion, before it became too-casually-blank. “What happened?” he rasped.

“Don’t you remember?” Carson asked, sounding a bit concerned.

“You have been inside the virtual reality device for two full days,” Radek added helpfully.

“Two days?” John repeated, blankly, and Rodney swore he felt his heart stop.

John didn’t remember. Three virtual weeks of being in love, and as far as John knew, it had never happened.

Radek started in on the explanation of the pods, with medical asides from Carson, and Rodney took the opportunity to make a strategic retreat.

Back in Atlantis, Carson declared them both fit to resume their usual duties, and Rodney did his best to keep everything as _normal_ as possible. He got the feeling John was avoiding him, and he didn’t blame him one bit. Two days was a pretty big span to have completely blank in his memory, and since John apparently didn’t know Rodney had been in the VR with him, he didn’t even know there was someone else who would know.

Rodney was relieved when they got a mission, to P2X-954, right up until the point where they desecrated some ruins that were actually a ‘holy temple’ and had to run for their lives. Rodney dodged the arrow headed for his chest, by _centimeters_ , but twisted his ankle rolling out of the way. John hauled him upright, Rodney’s arm over his shoulder, as they ‘gated back.

Carson pronounced it bruised, not broken or even sprained, and wouldn’t give him any of the good painkillers, either. Muttering under his breath, Rodney headed back to his quarters, John hovering weirdly at his elbow.

“You need anything?” John asked, as Rodney sank onto his bed with a relieved sigh.

The scientist waved him off. “It’s only a bruise, Sheppard. And you look like crap. Go get some rest before you collapse of something.”

It had been a long day, a very long day, and Rodney had already told Radek not to disturb him unless it was an absolute emergency. From the look on John’s face, he thought it was a good idea, too.

He gave a snort of laughter and nodded absently. Then, he took a step closer, just as absently, and leaned down like he was about to—

“Sheppard?”

John froze.

“Sorry,” he said, straightening and taking a step back. “I’m sorry. I just forgot— I mean, I—”

Rodney frowned. _Forgot_ , John had said. And it hadn’t been Rodney who was about to do something they’d never done pre-virtual-world, which meant he had to have remembered it in the first place to have forgotten it.

“You forgot?” Rodney repeated. “But that means… You _do_ remember something from the VR pod.”

For a moment, it looked like John was going to deny it, but then he said, softly, “I remember everything. And I’m sorry, Rodney. Everyone assumed that I couldn’t remember, and I let them keep thinking it, because I didn’t want to have to explain.”

“Sheppard…,” Rodney said. 

John remembered, he remembered _everything_.”

“But I should have told _you_ , Rodney, because it wasn’t just a dream or a fantasy, it was a whole virtual world and I had no right to… to use you like that.”

“Sheppard…” 

John _remembered_. But if John regretted anything he’d done with what he thought was a virtual-Rodney, he’d have been angry, right? But he wasn’t angry, he was nervous, hesitant, so that must mean—

“It wasn’t real, I know that,” John continued. “Everything that we… everything that happened in there was just a figment of my imagination. So, I’m sorry if you think that I’ve been avoiding you lately, because I kind of was. I needed time to get that all this wasn’t real. I’ll just… I need more time, but I will, I’ll…”

“John,” said Rodney, with suddenly-knowing affection. He reached out to slide his fingers around John’s wrist, feeling the speeding pulse beneath his fingers, and tugged him closer.

“John,” he said again, more firmly. “It was me.”

“I— What?”

Rodney wasn’t sure what to make of the look on John’s face, and kept his eyes on their hands, tightening his grip on John’s wrist. “The virtual reality wasn’t stable,” he said. “And it would only work for people with the gene. We had to know if you were still in there, how badly the program was malfunctioning, and if it was affecting you. And even after we knew you were in the program, Carson couldn’t be sure what would happen if you suddenly found out it wasn’t real, if you did something stupid, like try to fight your way out of it, so I couldn’t risk telling you that we were trying to get you out. I was only supposed to keep your mind active, to make sure that you were okay, so that he and Radek could figure it out. But then you kissed me, and…”

He glanced up at John, who sat down, hard, on the bed beside him. “God, Rodney,” he breathed. “Why didn’t you tell me when I woke up?”

“Because I thought you didn’t remember!” Rodney snapped. “It felt like you’d gotten drunk or drugged or something, and I’d taken advantage of you. And why didn’t _you_ tell me?”

“Because it felt like I’d taken advantage of _you_ ,” John snapped back. They were arguing, and that shouldn’t have been better, but it was, because it was them. “I thought it wasn’t real. What was I supposed to say, Rodney? That in the two days it took you to get me out, I spent three weeks in love with you? And not even you, but some fantasy you that I imagined?”

“It was _me_ , John,” said Rodney, breathless, because John loved him, and he didn’t have a single doubt anymore. “It was me the whole time. The virtual reality program couldn’t create anything other than the planet it was on with just your mind. It needed both of our memories to have enough data.. So that fantasy me you imagined? Didn’t exist. That was my mind, reacting to yours.”

John blinked at him, hopeful but wary. “But I… _you_ …”

Rodney got up, carefully slow because of his bruised ankle, and moved to stand directly in front of him. “Virtual reality or not, John, it was us.”

“Was it?” John asked, pleading.

Rodney just grinned, sliding his hands up to cup John’s face, and leaned in to kiss him. “John,” he said. “It’s _us_.”

“Yes, it is,” John agreed, smiling, and kissed Rodney.

THE END


End file.
